


Blood in the Cut

by Maidservant_Hecubus



Series: 50 Shades of Dark Circles Under My Eyes [1]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Angst and Porn, Blood, Blood Kink, Blood and Violence, Dark, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Dubious Consent, F/M, I Don't Even Know, I'm Going to Hell, I'm Sorry, Imprisonment, Knifeplay, Medical, Self Harm, Stockholm Syndrome, Torture, Violent Sex, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 08:24:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12790605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maidservant_Hecubus/pseuds/Maidservant_Hecubus
Summary: Anon asked: Evil Rick finds Reader self harming...what happens next? (Smut or no, up to you)





	Blood in the Cut

**Author's Note:**

> Whholey shit Anon! I hope this hits the spot! If not take it up with Evil Rick, I have no control over that psycho... 
> 
> Do I even need to list all the content warnings for this one? blood bloody blood blood. And knives, and self harm, and medical shit, and torture, daddy kink mention, BSSM like woah, severely dub-con, imprisonment, you want crying? We got crying, and a lovely Stockholm syndrome frosting. Just YIKES.
> 
> Ps. The answer is smut, it will always be smut.
> 
> Song I listened to on repeat: Blood in the Cut by K.Flay

A bright red ribbon of blood streamed down your arm and the scalpel you had stolen clattered to the concrete floor of your cell. You quickly clamped a hand over your mouth to muffle the sob of pain that burst from your lips.  _ Shit.  _ You were bleeding too much, too fast.  _ Stupid fucking idiot _ , you couldn't even do this right. A small red puddle was forming on the ground. If  _ He _ hadn't heard you then he would surely smell the blood. He was like a fucking shark. 

That was exactly how he found you. Crouched on your haunches like an animal, a hand clamped over the bleeding slice on your arm, tears streaming down your face. An involuntary whine of fear escaped your throat when you heard a code being entered on the keypad outside your cell. You clenched your eyes shut when the automatic door hissed open. Irrationally hoping that if you couldn't see him then he couldn't see you. You curled into yourself further wishing you could disappear, become the nothing that you felt you were.

His deceivingly soft footsteps came to a halt in front of you. You body was shaking, waiting for whatever punishment he saw fit to deliver.

“What did- what have you  _ done _ , girl?” He hissed. 

You could only whimper. 

“Answer!” he barked, “What. Have. You. Done?”

Your only reply was a hiccuping sob.

He crouched down and painfully griped your jaw in his large hand, jerking your head up to face him. “Look at me, girl.”

You blinked your eyes open, your lids gummy with tears, and looked into the dark abyss of his eyes.

“Last-last chance. Tell me what you have done  _ NOW _ , or I will leave you to fucking bleed to death right here.”

Another sob escaped your throat and you took several deep gasping breaths before you began to answer.  

“I-I…” you gasped again for more air. “I needed - I needed t-t-to  _ feel _ ssssomething. And and and I ttthought that a - a  _ little _ …” you trailed off dissolving into silent sobbing.

His lips curled in a nasty sneer, stretching the grotesque scar that bisected them, “Tell me then,  _ kitten _ ,” his voice was condescending and sickly sweet, “when did it become  _ your _ job to decide what to do with your flesh?”

Your chest heaved and you swallowed hard, “R-r-rick…”

He jerked your head in warning.

“Ssssiiir,” you corrected, teeth chattering. “I'm s-sorry. It's nnnnot- i didn’t - I cccccan’t…”

“Shut up.” he released your jaw and fisted his hand in your hair as he stood. He stormed out of your cell dragging you behind him. Ignoring your cries of pain and the trail of blood you were leaving behind like breadcrumbs in a dark wood.

You thought he was  _ your  _ Rick when you first met him. You just assumed the scar was a new souvenir from one of his adventures. It didn't take long at all for you to realize your mistake.  _ Evil _ Rick wanted to hurt your Rick and he knew the most efficient way to do that was to hurt you. He hadn't expected the games you had enjoyed with your Rick. He never anticipated how much you craved for it to become more than just a game. 

You snapped back to yourself when you were dragged into his lab. Evil Rick released your hair and jerked his chin towards the cold metal exam table.

Obediently you hoisted yourself up onto the frigid slab, your bleeding arm pressed tightly to your chest, a deep crimson stain was spreading across the fabric of your shirt. You sat still with your legs dangling over the edge you knew well enough at this point that he was very particular about being the one to maneuver you to suit his needs.

He stepped in front of you and reached out to grab your wrist and pull your arm towards him. He frowned down at the angry red slash before reaching into his lab coat for a small tube. Rick removed the cap and squeezed a line of blue gel across your cut. It instantly stopped hurting and began to knit closed, healing before your eyes.

Your breath hitched and you looked up at him in confusion. “W-why?”

“Your pain is  _ mine _ , girl,” he growled, “Your flesh is mine. Your LIFE is mine.” 

Your eyes widened at the claims he laid upon you. “ _ Y-yes, Daddy… _ ” you whispered.

“I’m not - I’m not your  _ Daddy _ , I’m your  _ fucking God _ ,” he spat. “Your  _ Daddy  _ lost you, little girl, and I don't play his games. If you need something you will ask - will  _ beg  _ me for it. I decide when you bleed. I decide what scars you bear.” his face was so close to yours now, his breath hot against your skin. “Now tell-tell me, kitten, what do you  _ need _ ?”

Your breath hitched. Was he truly offering what you thought? “I-I…” you started, unsure if you understood what he wanted from you. You swallowed and pressed on. “Sssir I want -I need to  _ feel _ . Just- just the pain isn't enough. I need-I need--" language failed you and with a boldness that surprised yourself you reached out to take his hand and guided it to your cheek, pressing your face into his wide palm. Closing your eyes at the blessed feel of someone's skin against yours.

He loosed a dark laugh and your eyes shot open. You let go of his hand like it was on fire, but it stayed. God help you it stayed. 

“ _ please _ ,” you whispered.

Evil grinned, all teeth, sharp and joyless as he brushed the rough pad of his thumb across your lower lip. “I see now,” he purred as he slid his hand gently down your neck and splayed his fingers wide to wrap around your throat and  _ squeeze.  _

You swallowed hard against his hand and prayed that he did see. That he understood that this wasn't a game for your either.

Guiding you by your throat he pushed you back to lay down on the exam table. The fabric of your shirt did nothing to shield you from the cold bite of the metal. He held you there for a moment more before he was satisfied that you wouldn't move from where he put you. You took a shuddering breath when he finally released your throat. 

Rick stepped back from you and walked around to the side of the table. He grasped your wrist hard, grinding delicate bones together. You whimpered quietly but didn't move. Your arm was pulled above your head, out of your field of view and you felt a cold metal shackle close around your wrist. He repeated the movements with your other arm, locking it into place. You knew better than to test your bonds. Staying where he put you was the first lesson you had learned at his hand. 

Rick stood behind you, just out of your field of vision. You could hear the light clinking of steel instruments being removed from their cases, examined, and laid meticulously out on a metal stand. You knew his rituals of preparation were as important to him as the work itself, but the anticipation still made your heart race in fear. He grunted in satisfaction and wheeled the cart around to stand next to your head, every glinting knife and tool presented to you at eye level.    

“N-now,” he started as he slipped off his crisp white lab coat, “this time will be different from our usual _ -hmmm-  _  encounters,” His tone was detached and clinical, dangerous. “How-However, I still expect you to be still and  _ quiet _ until I t-tell you otherwise.” 

You didn’t nod or speak a sound of agreement to his terms.  That had been the second lesson. He wasn’t looking for permission from you. He would always take exactly what he wanted. The terms he presented only kept him from deciding he wanted  _ more _ .

The first instrument he showed you was a simple pair of surgical shears. Your heart was pounding. When he started with those it was going to be a  _ long _ session. Silently he cut through your blood stained clothes in a way that allowed him to pull the ruined fabric out from under you. You thought you would never get used to the shock of the metal table against your bare skin and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from gasping at the cold. Goose bumps erupted on your skin and you almost,  _ almost _ , cried out when you felt a gentle hand… His hand… brush along the pebbled flesh of your arm. He had never, ever touched you beyond the most perfunctory contact required to carry out his sharp ministrations on your body. He understood. A tightness in you unclenched. He understood and he had deemed you worthy of accommodation.

His hand moved from your arm to stroke across the thin, even scars along your rib cage. He was admiring his previous work in a way he never had before. In his other hand he plucked a scalpel from the tray. Your heart was pounding in your ears as he pressed the sharp edge into your skin. He drew a thin, neat, red line across your chest. You knew it would be exactly a quarter inch away from the previous one and perfectly parallel, his tally marks for each of your sessions. Now he would truly begin.

The first real cut he made was into your forearm, exactly over the cut he had just healed. It was neater and shallower than your clumsy attempt and you had no doubt he would let this one scar. He was making a very clear point.

His next move took you by complete surprise. You couldn't see him but you  _ felt  _ it when his hot, wet tongue laved over the fresh cut on your arm, lapping at the line of blood that had beaded up from the parted skin. You took a sharp, stuttering, inhale. Careful, so careful to keep your vocal chords still.

“Such a  _ good _ girl now, a-aren’t you?” he laughed darkly as he moved so he could look you in the eyes. He teased the scalpel down your throat to your chest, threatening but not breaking skin. “Tell me, who controls what you feel, girl?”

You let out a choked sob, “Y-you do!” the point of the scalpel bit into the skin of your sternum and  tears pricked your eyes, “y-you do,  _ sir _ !”

He hummed, satisfied with your reply. Again he shocked you when he swiped a thumb across your chest, collecting the drop of blood there and bringing it to his lips. You watched, breathless, as his pink tongue darted out to lick your blood from his finger. 

Watching him taste you thrilled you more than you could comprehend. You flushed as a hot, wet heat pooled between your thighs. It was something you hadn't felt since this Rick had taken you.

You came back to yourself as you realized he was staring down at you with slitted eyes and a snarl on his face. You must have lost yourself and shifted or whimpered or done some other fool thing you should be able to control by now. 

“D-did we find something - something that you  _ enjoy,  _ kitten?” his lips curled but his eyes stayed hard.

You choked down a sob and gave him the smallest nod that you could manage. 

“S-something you enjoyed enough to forget yourself.” He scolded. 

Tears welled in your eyes.  _ So fucking stupid. One fucking job. Stupid, stupid, stupid… _

He caught your jaw in his hand to still your head. You hadn't realised you had been shaking it back and forth. You could barely see him through the fog of tears. You felt…  _ Christ was he soothing you?  _ You felt his thumb stroking your cheek even while he held your face in a death grip.

“I think,” you could hear mirth in his voice, “I think with how  _ new _ aaaall this is that I can  _ forgive  _ your transgression this  _ once.  _ In fact,” he leaned down close to your ear and breathed a harsh whisper, “in fact I want to hear you -hear everything from now on tonight.”

“T-thank you, sir.” You breathed. 

He straightened back up, a genuine grin on his face, “we'll s-see about that. Now,” he flipped the scalpel in the air, catching it again by the handle, “Where were we?”

Rick started where he had left off, teasing the edge of the blade along your skin. He trailed it up the mound of your breast, just barely scratching across your nipple.

You yelped, he laughed.

The blade shifted slightly over and then...then he pressed down, slicing just next to it.

“Fuuu-  _ oh god! _ ” tears were freely pouring down the sides of your face. Before the sharp pain had a chance to fade it was suddenly soothed. Ricks lips closed around the cut, engulfing your hardened bud and sucking hard. His tongue worried the edges of the wound he had made, spreading it open wider, his throat working to drink down the blood welling up from your breast. 

You really did lose yourself then. Your whole body was trembling. A low keening sob poured from your lips. His teeth grazed your your nipple, sending a shock of arousal straight to your dripping cunt and you pressed your legs together, instinctively searching for some sort of friction. 

“ _ ahhh, Christ! Ric--Sir… pleeease.”  _ You hiccupped and sobbed. You couldn't remember the last time you had felt like this. Not since  _ your _ Rick, but you no longer had a concept of time.

He released your breast with a wet pop. “W-what do you need, kitten?” He rumbled against your skin, “Ask me for what you _ need. _ ”

“I-I--  _ oh god--  _ I need,  _ pleeease,  _ I need,” you swallowed hard, desperate and fucking terrified, “ _ Please _ , I need to be fucked.” You gasped, “I need  _ you _ to fuck me, sir, please. Use me,  _ hurt me _ , make me  _ yours _ . I need _ you. p-p-please _ ”

He laughed then, genuine and joyful. You froze for a moment, thinking he was laughing at you. At your presumptive idiocy. And then you felt his hand on your cheek, his thumb brushing away the fresh tears that were gathering. 

“You are so  _ f-fucking  _ beautiful right now.” He crooned, “he should never have let you out of his sight.” 

He moved away from you and you wept harder at the loss before you felt his hands on your thighs, spreading you open before him.

“It will hurt. I-I can’t - I won't be gentle.” he warned as you heard the clinking of a belt and the zip of a fly.

You nodded your head in understanding. You didn't want him to be.

He stepped between your legs, one hand lifting your thigh up and hooking your leg on his shoulder, the other guiding himself to your entrance. You wailed as in one brutal thrust he buried himself in you to the hilt. He was larger than  _ your  _ Rick and it had been so very long, it felt like you were being split in half. 

Rick groaned as he pulled out and slammed back in. Your arms jerked against the restraints and you cried out at the sweet mix of pleasure and pain. He gripped your hips hard enough to bruise down to the bone as he began to  _ truly  _ fuck you.

His pace was relentless. Brutally hard and so deep that every thrust bottomed out against your cervix. His nails dug into your flesh and you felt your skin give way smearing your hips with blood. 

He was grunting with exertion as he fucked you, leaning forward  and bending your leg so your knee was touching your shoulder. All you could hear was someone, somewhere screaming and cursing and begging. 

“Open your fucking eyes and look at me.”

You wrenched your eyes open to obey him. His blown out pupils swallowed you like black holes and the screams turned into whimpers.

With his cock still pistoning inside of you he stretched an arm out to snatch something from the tray by your head. The glint of a scalpel caught your eye and you felt yourself spasm around him. 

A manic grin sliced across his face as he looked down at you.  

“Fucking gorgeous.” He growled, sweat dripping from his brow, “Fucking  _ Mine. _ ”  He thrust the knife down into the muscle of your shoulder and you  _ screamed _ . Every nerve in your body fired at once and you came violently undone around him. Your cunt gripping and pulsing around him as he continued to thrust inside of you. 

He didn't stop. You sobbed as he fucked you raw, through your orgasm and into pain. You didn't know anymore which you needed more. 

His thrusts grew erratic, he was close. He pressed the blade deeper into your flesh and  _ twisted.  _ Your vision went white as you came screaming a second time. 

He followed you this time, roaring his completion as his cock jumped inside you and he spent himself in your depths. 

You felt like you had left your body, Blackness encroached on your vision as reality faded away around you. The last thing you heard before you passed out was a whispered ‘ _ mine.’  _

_ ____ _

You eyes blinked open as you woke up what could have been hours or days later. You were back in your cell. Tucked into your cot with clean bedding. As you came back to yourself you realized your hair was damp and your skin had been scrubbed clean. 

You pulled back the covers to sit up, the chill of the room prickling your naked body. You stood carefully, your legs trembling and weak, and walked over to examine yourself in the mirrored wall.

Looking at your reflection, your eyes drawn to the red angry wound on your shoulder. You moved closer to the mirror to get a better look and your eyes widened. The corner of your mouth twisted up in a contented smirk as you danced your fingers across the cuts.

_ Your Rick  _ had marked you with a crisp, red “R".


End file.
